A New Beginning
by MrSkeeter
Summary: For a century Harry Potter has returned to Hogwarts on the anniversary of Voldemort's defeat. What will make this year different? Some characters from my story, The Between Years, most from my insperation. The fantastic work of the wonderful J. K. Rowling.


**A New Beginning**

At the gates of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry a loud pop disturbed the quiet predawn darkness. Out of thin air a lone figure appeared, pulled his traveling cloak tight against the early morning chill, leaned on his cane and started making his way towards the castle. Once in the entry hall the traveler paused to loosen his cloak, the light from a scattering of torches reveling a man hunched by age, with a thick mass of unkempt silvery-grey hair, silver glasses and a faded scar, in the shape of a lightning bolt, on his forehead.

Crossing the entrance hall, Harry Potter couldn't resist the temptation to steal a glance at the hour glasses marking the House Cup standings. A small smile crossed his lips as he observed that the rubies of Gryffindor slightly outnumbered the emeralds of Slytherin. Pushing open the doors to the Great Hall he nodded in acknowledgement to the lone old man and a group of students, wearing the robes of each of Hogwarts' houses, waiting in the center of the room. Joining them he took his place two steps to the left of the plaque marking the spot where he stood when Voldemort fall one hundred and one years previous.

With his friend in place, the old man moved to stand in front of him. The students looked on in reverent silence as Harry moved his hands to the shoulders of his friend. None of them fully understood the meaning of this gesture, but they all knew that for the past ninety-nine years Harry Potter and Haydon Piper had welcomed the sunrise on the second of May in this manner. They also knew that the friends had met in Godric's Hollow the summer before Haydon's first year at Hogwarts and Harry's last. Less certain in their minds was how long it had been customary for the descendants of these two men to join them in this vigil; only that it had started years ago with the two friends own children.

Not so much as a cough or shuffling of foot disturbed the quiet while the group watched the first rays of sunlight creep over the window ledges to illuminate the space. As he had for a century, Harry closed his eyes and saw a brief flash of red and green while his mind replayed the moment that marked the end of the darkest wizard the world had ever known. Removing his hands from Haydon's shoulders, Harry crossed the room to the plaque bearing the names of those who had died in the final battle. Placing a hand on each inscription, one at a time, he whispered, "Thank you. I have never forgotten." Haydon, who had been standing quietly with his head bowed and his hands folded in front of his waist, looked up and cocked an eyebrow. This was different, ninety-eight times previously had witnessed Harry's private act of remembrance and on each of those he had ended with, "I will never forget," not, "I have never forgotten." However he opted to keep this observation to himself as Harry turned to address the students, "Now, if my old brain is still remembering things correctly, I believe its Ravenclaw's turn to host my nap until breakfast."

"It is Great-Great-Grand-Dad," confirmed a tall, lanky, young man with green eyes and hair every bit as unmanageable, if not quite as dark, as his forefathers had been in his youth. His robes boasting not only the eagle crest of his house, but also the badge of head boy. Stepping forward he offered Harry his arm, which was gladly accepted, and led him on his journey from the Great Hall to the Ravenclaw Tower. Reaching the common room, Harry refused the offer of a bed in the dormitory, as he did every year, but accepted a blanket. Settling into an overstuffed chair, in front of the fire place, he pulled the blanket up to his chin and drifted off to sleep.

In two hours time, or was it two minutes? Could one really be sure of the passing of time while sleeping? Harry awoke and opened his eyes, not to see the blue and bronze adorned walls he was expecting, but rather a bright mist. He knew this place; he'd been here once before, one hundred and one years earlier. Standing he stretched, not the least bit surprised to find himself naked and that his body felt very different. Gone were the twinges and aches earned fighting evil and developed over years of playing professional quidditch. No more was the stiffness acquired naturally over the passing of time and a life well lived. He felt young and vibrant and enjoyed the sensation of once again having a physical presence which matched his mental one. Even as Harry turned to take in his surrounding he knew that all he would see was the cloudy vapor of the bright mist. A vapor which did not hide his surroundings; rather it was more as if the haze had not yet formed into his surroundings. And this time he was very certain that once his surroundings formed he would be required to move on, unable to return as he had before. He was also sure that someone would soon be arriving to greet him and, not knowing who that someone might be, wished to be clothed.

Even as this wish formed in his head, robes appeared a short distance away and Harry pulled them on. Only to be greeted by a playful, "You don't need to get dressed on my account. After all it's been over two years since I've been able to enjoy the view."

Harry spun on the spot exclaiming, "Ginny!" With the agility of a teenager he sprinted the short distance separating them, wrapped her in a tight embrace and lifted her off the floor. Their lips meting in a kiss that conveyed the great joy they both felt at being reunited, this time truly for all time. When their lips separated Harry leaned his forehead against hers whispering, "I've missed you Gin, more than I would ever have thought possible."

"And I've missed you," Ginny replied, "At least being able to touch you."

Harry stepped back to hold Ginny at arms length and studied her face. At first glance she appeared the same as the last time he'd seen her. Yet something was different. She seemed younger, more vibrant, more like the Ginny of their school days and he guessed, based on his own renewed vigor, that he must appear the same to her. He was so taken by her beauty that he momentarily found himself unable to speak. When his voice returned, Harry asked, "Have you been able to see me, to be with me, even though I couldn't see you?"

Ginny smiled and shook her head, "No, not really. Only a ghost could do that." When Harry's only response was a questioning look she explained. "You know how people always say, 'The one's we love are never really gone as long as we keep them here?'" She tapped a finger against her chest, above her heart. Harry nodded yes and Ginny continued, "In a manner of speaking that is true. As long as one living person keeps your memory alive you'll be able to keep tabs on what's happening in the living world but you can't just pop in and out for a look see. That requires being summoned by some means, a séance for instance."

"Or the resurrection stone," Harry murmured.

"Or the resurrection stone," Ginny agreed. "The thing is, as you know, you don't really go back. It's only a shadow of your former self. The living can talk with you, they may even be able to see you, but they can't touch you."

The cloudy vapor was now beginning to form into something more substantial, something very much resembling King's Cross Station and Harry thought he heard the faint wail of a far off train whistle. However this didn't concern him as he looked at Ginny and tried to digest what she had said. "But how does that work exactly? Do you watch it on the telly, hear it on the radio, read it in the papers?"

"Nothing like that," Ginny answered. The train whistle grew louder and the click clack of steel wheels on steel tracks could clearly be heard as she continued, "You'll see soon enough. The train is almost here and there are several people coming along who want to welcome you."

"My mom and dad?" Harry asked his voice filled with hope. "And I'll actually be able to touch them, even to huge them?"

Ginny smiled, not at all surprised that his parents were the first people he thought of. "Yes and many others, your grandparents, my parents, Hermione, your aunt, Dudley and Luna, Fred, Sirius, Remus and Tonks, Colin, McGonagall, Severus, even Malfoy, just to name a few. That is unless you'd rather go back and become a ghost.

"No," Harry answered as a silvery version of what appeared to be the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station. "I've had a very good life. There's no unsettled business that could tempt me to return. But I will miss Ron and Neville. The three of us were meant to have dinner this evening."

Ginny placed her hand on Harry's shoulder and gently guided him towards the train. "Not to worry, Ron and Neville will still have dinner this evening and they will spend the time rejoicing in the life of their good friend."

Reaching the train, Harry stepped up into the first coach and was greeted by the two people he had spent the whole of his life wishing he could be with.

In the Ravenclaw common room the house head boy placed a hand on his great, great grandfather's shoulder. Harry didn't stir as a smiled spread across his face and he seemed to whisper, "Hi Mom." Then all was still.

The Ravenclaw Head Boy's eyes were tearing as he turned to one of his housemates, "Fetch the Headmaster and tell Professor Longbottom that Harry Potter has passed. Then find the head of Gryffindor, his youngest son should be here with him."

3


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